


By the stable-door

by Trojie



Series: Trojie's Pornathon Entries 2013 [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Community: summerpornathon, Double Penetration, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism, implied Merlin/Arthur - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 20:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/pseuds/Trojie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur likes to watch, Merlin likes to be watched. It works out for everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the stable-door

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Round One of the Merlin Summerpornathon (Kink Grab-bag). Kinks used were: Voyeurism, double penetration, m/m/m threesome (could be an argument made for borderline public sex too). This is the extended edition I originally wrote and had to cut down for entry.

Arthur drops the bar on the big stable doors, and steps quietly across the straw-strewn flagstones, past the stalls, to the bigger, open area where the tack is kept, where he can already hear murmuring and soft laughter. He peeks, keen anticipation already tightening his gut. 

There are old horse-blankets piled up in one corner, as tidy as may be expected in somewhere as busy as a stables, and sitting on them up against the wall is Percival, shirtless and smiling and with Merlin bundled up in his arms, twisted so that they can kiss. Gwaine walks on his hands and knees over the blanket pile until he is straddling the pair of them, knees at Percival's hips, and the kiss turns into something more heated, more complicated, as they trade off between each other - lips being bitten, tongues sliding to soothe those hurts and taste the little noises that eke out. Merlin, the wanton, is clutching each of the other two, a fierce delight on his face, and he rocks between them shamelessly.

Arthur, watching silently from the doorway, has to grip the doorframe tight and palm himself roughly at the sight, even this early on. Merlin has always had this effect on him.

Percival wastes no time once Gwaine has the former manservant distracted, taking control of the kiss in that silksmooth way he has - Percival lets him do it, and instead tucks his hands into Merlin's breeches, starts to drag them down. Merlin squirms, panting into Gwaine's mouth. 

By the time they're bare, clothes strewn across the floor, Arthur has loosened his belt enough to slide his hand past it and grip himself tight, skin on skin and trying to keep control. Gwaine and Percival have Merlin spread out between them and they are working off each other - working him to distraction, with their mouths and their hands everywhere, so that every move he makes in reaction to one is caught and turned to pleasure by the other. He is moaning almost constantly, breathy, gulping back what noise he can but helpless to stop all of it spilling out of him. Percival's fingers are sliding slick-slip-wet in and out of him, Gwaine bracing him to stop his writhing from narrowing the obscene space between his thighs, and as Arthur watches Percival adds a fourth finger. 

Surely four fingers, Percival's fingers no less, made to wield a two-handed sword and knock a man senseless, should be too much for anyone to take, but Merlin is breathless for it, panting and whining and trying to get his knees under himself for leverage to push back, take more. Percival's eyes are blown black, wide, utterly focused on the task of preparation, and Gwaine is stroking himself with Merlin's head almost in his lap where he kneels on the blanket pile, free arm stretched to hold Merlin for Percival to work. 

Merlin nudges himself closer, and mouths at Gwaine's cock. Arthur has to bite the inside of his cheek viciously to keep from making a noise of his own at that. As it is Gwaine makes enough of his own noise, and sweetly cups Merlin's face, holding him steady to do as he pleases. Percival makes a deep rumbling noise from the other side, hoisting Merlin up onto his knees and pulling those four broad fingers free.

'What do you want?' Percival asks Merlin, leaning forward and blanketing Merlin's body with his own. Gently, with Gwaine's help, he pulls Merlin's free from his occupation. Strings of fluid shine like crystal for a moment between Merlin's plush bottom lip and the head of Gwaine's cock, and then Merlin's gasp breaks them free. 'Tell us,' Percival pushes, warm fondness in his tone laced with real heat, real lust. 

'You could let him open you up,' Gwaine suggests, low and deep. 'Let me take you after, fill you up twice.'

'No time,' Merlin grits out, licking at the corners of his mouth where they're stretched and red. 'You - I - I won't last,' he pants. His head hangs low for a moment, then looks up, and in the straw-dusty air cut with shadows and stripes of brilliant morning sun, he's haloed like some carnal parody of an angel. 'Both of you,' he says hungrily. 'Take me together, _please_.'

Arthur can't help the sound he makes, the strangled groan, but the three he's watching are too caught up in each other to notice, it seems. Percival's fingers, still slick and wet with whatever liniment it is he's been using, are already seeking and stretching Merlin further, as Gwaine pushes him to kneel back into Percival's space, kisses his face frantically. 

When Percival slides home, Merlin's face breaks into a sweet, satisfied happiness, and his fingers tremble and clench on Gwaine's shoulders. When Gwaine adds his own fingers, then kneels up and enters Merlin completely, Merlin seems to melt against Percival's broad chest. 

They hold him, they cradle him and push him and he takes it so beautifully Arthur is left breathless at the sight, finally feeling permitted to touch himself the way he wants. He is rough with himself watching them, watching how Gwaine and Percival kiss and thrust together, such glorious teamwork, starting to unravel as their pleasure spikes. 

Merlin comes first, wet and gorgeous and seeming-slow, shaking to pieces as the knights hold him tight. Then Gwaine falls to it as well, and Percival, and Arthur can't make out the sequence of things any more because he's too taken up with his own overwhelming need, stripping his cock furiously within the confines of his trousers. Everything narrows down to light, shadow, the slick shine of Merlin's release over the softness of skin, and Arthur reaches his peak and has to hang onto the doorframe to prevent himself from fallling to his knees. 

When he comes back to himself, they are dressed, filing past him one by one as if they had only met here to groom their mounts or sharpen weapons in the little blacksmith's shop that comes off the stables. 

Merlin winks at him as he passes, last in line, and his hand slides across Arthur's bare, besmirched belly. He licks his fingers as he walks away.


End file.
